


Hearts Unbuttoned

by LaChanteuse



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3954574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaChanteuse/pseuds/LaChanteuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina walks towards her until there’s only a foot of space between them. Emma’s eyes are green and wide, and all Regina wants is to let herself fall into them forever.</p>
<p>“Oh, Emma,” she breathes. “Don’t you get it?” Softly, she runs the back of her hand along Emma’s cheek, watching as her eyelids flutter closed. Regina is helpless to stop her own eyes from swimming with tears. “There is no happy ending for me without you.” </p>
<p>Post season 4 finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hearts Unbuttoned

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So historically I am an extremely slow writer (see: Let the Bough Break) but I spit this out in like two days. I don't know what happened. It's my contribution to post-finale fics, but do keep in mind that all knowledge I have of this show has come from tumblr and clips on youtube since, like, 3x18. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.  
> Please please please leave me a comment! 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Hearts Unbuttoned**

It’s Hook who eventually, inadvertently, pulls her from her stupor. She stops staring at the place where Emma had stood only moments ago, where the dagger of the Dark One now lies, where she’d surrendered to the darkness for _Regina’s_ happy ending.

It’s Hook’s movement towards the dagger in the periphery of her vision that propels her forward from Robin’s arms. She manages to make it to the dagger first, scooping it up just as Hook reaches for it.

“No!” she shouts, as Hook motions to take it from her.

“But – “ Hook begins to protest.

“ _NO!”_ She says again, louder this time. She sounds wild, even to her own ears, but she can’t control herself right now. “She did this for _me_.  _I’m_ keeping the dagger. “

Hook glares at her for a long moment, and she dares him to argue with her using only her gaze. She can feel her magic at the ready in her fingertips and she’s not afraid to use it should he provoke her.

Eventually, Hook relents. “Alright.”

She turns and faces her son, whom she’s never seen look so heartbroken. Snow’s wretched sobs ring in her ears like gunshots.

“Let’s go home, Henry,” she says quietly. They both know there’s nothing else to be done for Emma tonight. He nods dumbly and takes her hand. Immediately, Regina poofs them away. She doesn’t want to be near anyone but her son right now.

**xxxxx**

Once they arrive at the mansion, neither of them knows what to do.

They’re both starving, but they can’t eat. They’re both exhausted, but they know sleep won’t come to them. They’re both too consumed with grief to do anything.

It’s nearly dawn before they curl up together on the sofa and fall into a fitful sleep, dried tear tracks on both of their cheeks.

**xxxxx**

The next day, Regina begins her research in earnest. Operation: Black Swan, as Henry calls it.

The first person she visits is Belle.

She’s waiting outside the library doors when Belle arrives to unlock them for the day.

“I need everything you have on the Dark One and the dagger,” she says before Belle has even inserted the key into the lock. Regina follows her inside to the counter as Belle situates herself behind it. “Please,” she says, and she finds that this time around it’s not so hard to let go of her pride and plead with the young woman. “I know I’m not deserving of your help, but Henry needs his mother and I – “

Belle holds her hand up to silence her, and then looks at her with deep, deep sympathy in her eyes. “Of course I’ll help you, Regina. I’ll give you everything I have and the notes I’ve made about Rumple.”

Only when Belle goes into the back room does Regina allow herself to exhale in relief.

She reemerges a few minutes later with a tall stack of books and copious sheets of paper tied together with a ribbon.

“I’ll have another look to see what else I can find, and I’ll get back to you, alright? Come and see me again if you need anything.”

Regina feels a warm rush of gratitude towards Belle, and finds herself at a loss for words. “Thank you,” she says, and hopes Belle catches the sincerity.

Belle simply nods. “Good luck.”

**Xxxxx**

There’s no sign of the pirate. She’s surprised that he’s not helping her, but she can’t say that she cares much that he’s nowhere to be found.

Henry comes home one afternoon to tell her that apparently he’s been drinking himself into a stupor. She’s incensed; she can tell Henry is, too, and she wonders for the thousandth time what the hell Emma sees in him when he can’t even be bothered to help find the woman he supposedly loves, let alone bring her out of the darkness that has consumed her.

She checks in with Snow and David on occasion, but she can’t handle talking to them when they’re more interested in blaming themselves and wondering where they went wrong than actually finding a way to bring Emma back to herself.  

It’s Henry who keeps her tethered. It’s Henry who fuels her determination. She knows there’s nobody who wants Emma back more than her own son, and it’s that knowledge which keeps her going.

**Xxxxx**

She keeps the dagger with her at all times. She simply isn’t comfortable if it’s not near enough for her to protect.

She knows she could use it to summon Emma, but she’s reluctant because what if Emma still trusts her? The Emma she knows would detest being forced to do anything against her will, and imagines that this has not changed.

Each night before she sleeps, she delicately traces the lettering on the dagger before carefully placing it beneath her pillow.

She refuses to examine why she can’t bear to be apart from the only tangible thing she has to connect her to Emma, when the Emma who has come to matter to her more than she cares to admit might not exist anymore.   

**xxxxx**

Regina wakes up in the middle of the night, about a week after Emma vanished, to find Henry shaking her shoulder, his cheeks shining with tears in the moonlight.

Instantly, she’s wide awake.

“What is it, Henry?” she says as she sits up a little faster than her sleep-addled brain can handle. She reaches out and softly grips his forearm.

Henry takes several deep, gasping breaths.

“What if she doesn’t love me anymore?” He whispers, and the words all but knock the wind from her lungs.

“Oh, Henry, sweetheart,” she breathes. Her arms open to him and he folds into her embrace, just like when he was a child. He sobs into her chest, and each one vibrates deep in her bones. Her eyes begin to sting and she fights to retain control over her emotions.

“What if her love for me isn’t enough to bring her back?” And he doesn’t say it, but Regina knows he’s thinking _What if she loves the darkness more than she loves me?_

“Henry, baby. Look at me.”

He pulls back and meets her gaze, his eyes wet and swollen.

“There is nothing or nobody in this realm or any other that Emma loves more than she loves you. I know that. That is _never_ going to change. Do you hear me?”

He sniffs. “Even more than the darkness?”

“Even more than the darkness,” she murmurs against his temple, and it kills her that her son, who is the Truest Believer, has faltered in his belief in Emma’s goodness.

Of course, it nags at her that there’s no way she can know this for a fact. But she feels in the very depths of her soul that nothing matters more to Emma than Henry, Dark One or not.

After a long stretch of silence Henry asks, “Mom, can I stay here with you tonight?”

“Of course, my love,” she says, and he crawls in bed next to her, settling back into her embrace.

Regina is still awake when the sun comes up, listening to Henry’s steady breathing as he sleeps beside her.

**Xxxxx**

Robin doesn’t understand, and spending time with him begins to feel increasingly like a chore as the days go by.

One night, when he snaps that he feels like their relationship isn’t a priority for her anymore, she tells him flat out that it isn’t. It just isn’t. It can’t be right now, not when she can’t close her eyes without seeing Emma’s tear-filled eyes and hearing her voice, ragged with emotion, _you’ve worked too hard to have your happiness destroyed._

He listens, and she’s surprised when days pass and she doesn’t miss him at all.

**Xxxxxx**

She dreams of Emma often.

Sometimes she relives the moment where the darkness consumes Emma. Sometimes she dreams that Emma visits her as the Dark One and there’s no hope of bringing back _her_ Emma. Sometimes, she watches as Emma goes on a murderous rampage, taking pride after each kill, and all she can do is watch.

Some nights the dreams are beautiful. She dreams of picnics with Emma and her son. She dreams of waking up in bed beside her. She dreams of stolen kisses and intimate caresses and loving whispers in the night.

Always, she wakes with the pillow wet beneath her cheek.

**xxxxx**

Emma’s been gone for ten days before Hook clomps ungracefully into Regina’s home and demands to know where he can find Emma.

“Nice of you to finally show your face, Captain,” she spits at him. “I wonder,” she says, in a feigned questioning tone, “if I’d found her before now would you have hauled yourself out of your flask of rum long enough to care?”

He takes several menacing steps towards her and poises his hook threateningly under her chin, though Regina remains unimpressed. “How dare you insinuate that – “

“The CORRECT response,” she says loudly as she brushes past him, cutting him off, “is ‘what have you found while I’ve been drinking myself stupid, and is there any way I can assist you in your search?’”

Hook glares at her, and she relishes his shamefaced silence.

“The answers to those questions, I’m afraid, are ‘not much’ and ‘nothing right now,’” she continues. “Unless you have any suggestions?”

“Have you tried her cell phone?” he says, and Regina can hardly believe what she’s hearing.

She mocks him then, because she’s furious with him and not in the mood to be patient.

Loudly, she gasps. “I hadn’t thought of that! Let’s go try right now! I’m sure she’ll pick up right away!”

She drops the façade and strides past him. “Of course I’ve called her cell. I’m not an idiot. I’ve also sent text messages, and I know Henry has, too. None of which have been answered, obviously. It seems that, for the moment at least, she does not wish to be found.”

A pause, then, “Have you summoned her?”

“No,” she says sharply. “I don’t want to break her trust like that.”

“You’re deluding yourself, love, if you think Emma still trusts you.”

“Oh, and you think she’ll trust you?”

His smiles is smug, almost triumphant, almost like he _knows_ something she doesn’t, and she’s never hated him more than in this moment (though she refuses to believe that it’s because she’s afraid it might be true – that Emma might trust him more than she trusts her, and she _definitely_ refuses to think about why that thought causes her to ache).

“Why don’t we try it and see?” He suggests, and Regina has to count backwards from five to stop herself from hauling back and punching him in the face.

“Not a chance. I won’t risk it.” 

Hook surges forward, backing her up against the wall, slamming his fist on the wall next to her face. “I need to see her, damn you!” he shouts, and she smells the alcohol, pungent and ripe on his breath.

She remains impassive. “And what, pray tell, have you been doing to help find her?”

Hook gapes at her, fumbles for a response.

“I’ll tell you.” She leans in even closer to him. “Nothing,” she enunciates, deadly and quiet. “Absolutely nothing. You’ve been drunk off your ass while Emma is nowhere to be found! My son has nightmares and worries that his other mother loves darkness and power more than she loves him, but how could you know that when you haven’t seen anything but the bottom of a glass of rum for the past ten days!”

“Yeah,” Hook shouts back, “because I’m trying to figure out why the bloody hell she decided to sacrifice her goodness for _you!_ ”

Just as intended, his words land like blows, and though she tries to cover it up shame and frustration rise within her when her eyes begin to sting.

“If you think for a moment that I haven’t asked myself that question a thousand times over since that night, then you are even stupider than I suspected,” she growls. Elbowing past him, she walks back to the front door, opening it wide for him to leave. “Unless and until you have useful information which will lead to finding Emma, I want you to get out of my house and never come back. Do you understand me?”

Mockingly, he bows to her. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And Pirate?” she calls when he’s on the bottom step of her porch. He stops, but he doesn’t turn around.

“I don’t deserve her sacrifice. I know that. But don’t for one minute fool yourself into thinking that _you_ deserve her love.”

She slams the door before he can utter a reply.  

**Xxxxx**

Later that night, she wakes with Hook standing above her. Before she can open her mouth to demand what the hell he’s doing, he throws something at her which renders her immobile and mute.

“Don’t worry, love,” he croons. “Just a little something of our friend Blue’s. It’ll wear off in a few hours.”

He straightens up and looks around carefully as dread builds inside her. She knows what he’s here for, and she can’t do anything to stop him.

After a moment, he smiles cruelly down at her. And then slowly, audaciously, he reaches beneath her pillow and extracts the dagger.

“Figures,” he smirks, “given how protective you are of the damn thing. I’m going to summon her, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” His smiles widens and she thinks she might kill him the next time she sees him. It _galls_ her that he hasn’t changed at all and Emma can’t see it. He’s as much a pirate as the day they met.

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” he says cheekily. “Sleep tight,” he says, and the last thing she sees before she falls unconscious is Hook throwing sparkling dust in her face.

**xxxxxx**

When she wakes, there’s light streaming through her windows, and the dagger lies on the chaise lounge on the other side of the room.

She runs across the room, grabs it, and dresses herself with a wave of her hand. When she walks past Henry’s room and he’s nowhere to be found she panics, punching his number into her phone with trembling fingers. He answers on the third ring.

“Henry! Thank goodness. Where are you?!”

“I-I’m at school. It’s lunchtime. You were still sleeping when I got up this morning and I didn’t want to wake you. You haven’t been sleeping much lately and…” he trails off. “Wait. Is something wrong? Is it Emma?”

“No, honey,” she reassures him. “I guess I’m just…overtired. I’ll see you when you get home, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom. See you later,” he says, and hangs up.

Regina breathes deeply, and sets her jaw. She is going to _kill_ that pirate.

**Xxxxx**

She finds Hook lying in a pool of his own vomit on the floor of his cabin on the Jolly Roger. He’s breathing, and Regina thinks fleetingly that it’s a shame he didn’t choke on his own vomit. She notices that he’s got a nasty cut on his forehead, several bruises, and what look like horrible burns on his neck and chest.

She nudges him awake with her foot, and smirks down at him when he moans loudly in pain.

“Listen carefully, Pirate, because I will only ask you once,” she hisses at him. “What happened last night? Did you summon her?”

“Yes,” he says as he rises. “She was here, and she was mad at me for it. So damn angry.” He looks down and gingerly touches the burns on his chest and hisses in pain. She feels absolutely no sympathy for him.

“Did she do that to you?”

He nods, clutching the back of his head. “Where’d you get that!?” He demands as soon as he sees the dagger. He struggles to his feet.

Regina pulls it to her protectively. “It was in my room when I woke up. Why?”

“She took it. She took it with her when she left.”

Regina gapes at him. “And instead of coming to get me, you, what, got so drunk you were sick?”

Hook looks away, and has the grace to look at least a little guilty.

Suddenly she’s overcome with rage, and he slaps him hard across the face.

“ _Fuck_ you.” She hisses.

Then from the corner of her eye she sees Emma’s red leather jacket and her knees feel weak.  She doesn’t want to think about how it got there, but she knows that _this_ is not where it belongs. She magics it into her hand before turning on her heel and marching from the ship.

**Xxxx**

David calls her not a minute after she leaves Hook, his voice shaky and panicked.

“Get over here,” he urges. “Now.”

When she poofs into their apartment, she gasps. It’s as though the place has been ransacked. Everything has been overturned, all of their furniture upended. Shattered glass scatters the floor.

Snow clutches baby Neal to her chest while David holds her close, tucked under his arm as she sobs.

“What happened?” She rushes to them, putting her hand on Snow’s arm.

Snow opens her mouth to speak, but dissolves into sobs. She looks to David.

“E-Emma, was here last night,” is all he says, and the despair in his voice makes her feel as though her insides are made of marble.

Regina waves her hand so that the sofa is cleared off, and Neal’s playpen is put back together.

They sit, and she says, “Tell me what happened.”

They describe a horrible ordeal with someone who was undeniably _Emma_ but dark, and sinister, and everything they’d never wanted her to be. She’d had the dagger and they’d been terrified. Emma, they said, gladly played off that terror, threatening the baby, gloating, telling them how their precious savior had a heart of darkness, that the sacrifice they’d made had been for nothing.

“She said it was our fault she was like this, and that this was our price to pay,” Snow sobs.

“She enchanted us to sleep, I suppose,” says David. “We woke up and the place was like this.”

Regina surveys the mess, then looks at the utter devastation on Snow and David’s faces.

“I’ll fix this,” she vows, “if it’s the last thing I do.”

**Xxxxx**

She returns home about an hour before Henry gets back from school, and she gets lost in her own mind.

 She hates herself for it, but she wonders why Emma chose to terrorize her parents instead of coming to see Henry (because that’s the only reason she’d ever need to come here to the mansion. To see Henry alone, not her).

But then it occurs to her, as it should have the moment Hook uttered it, that Emma took the dagger with her from the Jolly Roger, and it had been in her room when she’d woken up.

Foolishly, she runs up the stairs to the lounge where she’d found the dagger, as though she might be able to feel Emma’s lingering presence from hours ago.

When it hits her that Emma trusts her alone with the dagger, she collapses onto the chaise lounge and sobs. It’s there that Henry finds her when he comes home from school.

He’s frantic at first, but when she explains to him what happened, he smiles at her, big and wide.

“You know what this means, right Mom?”

She nods, her own smile emerging, even as a tear falls down her cheek.

“It means there’s hope.”

**Xxxxx**

She throws herself back into her research with renewed vigor, stopping only to eat, sleep, and shower, and sometimes not even then.

If Henry doesn’t remind her to eat she ends up skipping multiple meals at a time, and she often wakes in the middle of the night with ink on her face from using spell books as an impromptu pillow.

Henry gets mad at her one morning when she’s still behind her desk, where he’d left her the night before when he went to bed.

“You need to take care of yourself!” He shouts. “I can’t lose you, too.”

Regina feels as though she’s been doused in ice water as the reality of what she’s been doing crashes down on her.

“Henry, I’m so sorry.” His arms wrap easily around her when she beckons to him. “I just…” she starts, and then suddenly finds it hard to talk around the lump in her throat.

“I know, Mom,” he says. “I know you just want her back. I miss her, too.”

And then, full of love for the beautiful, brilliant, compassionate young man her son is becoming, she takes the morning off and makes them pancakes (apple cinnamon) with whipped cream and maple syrup.

It’s nice, she thinks, as she watches Henry from across the table, to pretend that things are normal for a few hours, and that an integral piece of their family isn’t missing.

**Xxxxx**

On the nights when she can’t sleep, she sometimes sneaks into Henry’s room and watches him as he slumbers, just as she used to when he was a child.

His sleep now is much less peaceful than it used to be, and she wishes she could just reach out and siphon the nightmares from his subconscious.

One night, she tiptoes into his room and sees that he’s fallen asleep clutching Emma’s jacket.

It all but breaks her, and she bites down on her fist so that her sobs don’t wake him.

She sits down and strokes her son’s hair and whispers, “Damn you, Emma. Damn you.

“It should have been me.”

**Xxxx**

Not long after this, Henry rushes downstairs one night, long after he’d gone to bed.

“Mom, I got a text from Emma!” He shouts, and she thinks she must be dreaming.

But she’s not, because it’s there in front of her when Henry brandishes the phone in front of her face.

_Hey kid_ , it reads, and never before have two words caused her heart to pound so fiercely.

“W-what do I say?” Henry asks quietly, as though if he speaks too loudly the message might disappear.

“Just…have a conversation with her. Don’t tell her about our research. Don’t tell her that we’re trying to find a way to fix this. Start slow,” she advises, and Henry nods his agreement.

_Hi Mom! How r u?_ He sends, and ten minutes later they both jump when his phone vibrates loudly against the tabletop.

_I’m ok,_ it says, and then another message, _are u ok?_

_Yes,_ Henry replies. _I miss u._

_Miss u 2 kid_ comes the reply, and Regina watches as Henry swallows hard against his emotions.

They wait another two hours, but no other message comes, and Henry eventually falls asleep against her side, his phone still clutched in his hand.

**xxxxx**

The next morning the calls Snow, Charming, and (reluctantly) Hook to her home to tell them of this development.

Hook, whose burns still have not healed, unsurprisingly acts like a jealous brat. “Why didn’t she contact me?” he asks, and Regina swells with pride when Henry glares at him.

“Because there’s nobody Emma loves more than Henry,” Snow retorts, “and if you can’t understand that, then you need to leave.”

Hook sits back, chastened, and for the first time it occurs to Regina that the Charmings might not be as happy with Emma’s suitor as she’d first thought.

When she asks them what they think they should do, they all agree that communication should remain solely between Emma and Henry, and that none of their plans will be divulged until they can get a better grip on her state of mind.

It’s utterly serendipitous when, later that night, she finds _the_ spell, sewn into the hem of one of Cora’s dresses. It hadn’t occurred to her to check there until her mother’s love spell came to mind.

She smiles as she reads it, because the spell is well within her capabilities –an incantation, the dagger, a conductor of light magic, and a kiss of True Love. She just needs Emma to cooperate.

**xxxxx**

So communication between mother and son continues, sporadically, and only on Emma’s terms. They’re relatively frivolous conversations, considering Emma is (currently) the most powerful dark sorceress in all the realms.

Eventually, Regina stops monitoring their conversations, trusting Henry to say the right things.

“I wish I could see her,” he says to her one night after a rather lengthy back-and-forth with Emma.

“Me too,” she says absently, and Henry studies her, his expression changing as though he’s just realized something.

“She asks about you, you know,” he says, and suddenly Regina finds it very hard to speak. She just nods, and vigorously attempts to extinguish the embers of yearning in her heart.

**Xxxxx**

The day comes when Henry says to her, “I think we need to move forward with Operation: Black Swan, Mom.”

And so the next time Emma texts him, Henry writes _Do u trust me?_

When Emma replies _yes_ , Henry gives her instructions to meet him in the woods by the well the next night.

Regina hardly sleeps at all that night, imagining over and over the ways Operation: Black Swan could backfire (They lose Emma’s trust forever, and she’s overcome by the darkness), or succeed (Emma is freed from the darkness and falls into her arms, uttering her relief into Regina’s neck).

She can’t tell Henry of her misgivings, but she knows just who will give her reassurance.

**Xxxxx**

Belle flips the sign on the door to “Closed” when Regina enters and asks if they can talk. Belle makes them tea, and they sit at a small table in the back room.

“We’re meeting Emma tonight.”

“Oh!” Belle exclaims, her eyes widening in surprise. “You found the spell?”

“Yes,” Regina nods, “And we think we can pull it off, we just need Emma to trust us. And right now she does.”

“That’s good!” Belle says. “Oh, gosh. I hope everything goes well.”

Regina shifts in her seat. “What I wanted to ask you was…”

It takes her a while to gather her thoughts, but Belle is patient with her, and she regrets more than ever mistreating her so badly in the past.

“You fell in love with Rumple when he was the Dark One, right?”

Belle nods. “Yes.”

“How do I help her connect with her goodness? How do I bring her back to herself? Because I know it’s still there. It has to be.”

Regina fidgets under Belles sympathetic scrutiny. It seems that Belle hears what she’s not saying, and she doesn’t know how comfortable she is with that.

“Make sure that she knows she is loved,” Belle finally says. “Make sure she knows that Henry loves her. Make sure she knows that her parents love her. And make sure she knows that _you_ love her.”

“I-I don’t – “ Regina stutters, but she quickly realizes there’s no use denying to the perceptive woman in front of her the truth she’s been denying to herself for the longest time.

Belle reaches over and takes her hands. “You do. In some capacity I know you do. And you will be okay.” she utters with a surety that Regina knows she’ll never feel. “I know it.”

All Regina can do is smile a watery smile and squeeze the other woman’s hands. “Thank you,” she whispers.

**Xxxxx**

Hours after dusk, she meets with Snow, David, Hook and Henry near the well. Regina clutches the dagger tightly.

Henry stands ahead of them all, so that he’s the first person Emma sees. When she does emerge from the forest, wearing a dark, hooded cloak, she rushes to Henry and embraces him. Regina sees her smile into Henry’s hair, and she knows that _Emma_ is still within reach.

Then she opens her eyes, cold and grey like stones. There is no trace of Emma’s customary warmth, and Snow shrinks back when Emma looks at them with anger and betrayal in her eyes.

“Henry,” Emma says, pulling back from him, and Regina shivers at her icy, light tone of voice. “What’s this?”

Regina’s heart pounds as she watches Emma’s pale hands tighten slightly around Henry’s arms.

“Mom,” he says to Emma, “look at me.”

Warily, she does.

“I asked you last night if you trusted me. You said yes. Do you still trust me?”

“Yes,” she says warily.

“Do you trust them?”

Emma looks to Regina, down to the dagger in her hands, then back to Regina’s eyes.

“Yes,” she replies, without breaking her stare.

“Do you love me?”  Henry asks next.

“Yes,” Emma replies immediately.

“Good. Because I love you, too. Trust me,” he repeats, before he turns and nods at Regina.

With shaking hands she unfurls the scroll and mutters the incantation written there. She throws it into the well, and a bright, white light explodes from the opening.

“Now, Henry!” She shouts, and Henry leans forward and kisses Emma firmly on the cheek.

The light which had burst from the well surges towards Emma and envelopes her. It cocoons her, and then bursts outward, along with what looks like the darkness that she watched devour Emma what feels like a lifetime ago. The force throws Henry back, and he lands on his back several feet away.

The darkness and the light both disappear into the well, and Regina feels the dagger crumbling to dust in her hands.

It’s all over in what feels like a second, and then there’s nothing but suffocating silence. 

“Mom!” Henry calls, and Regina sees Emma’s fingers twitch.

Slowly, Emma regains consciousness, and begins to sit up. Regina watches, hardly daring to breathe, as Emma blinks several times and then whips head around.

“Henry!” She screams, and Henry’s up and into her arms, sinking into her, as Emma sobs into his hair. “I’m so sorry,” Regina hears, and she knows that this Emma is _their_ Emma.

The relief that sweeps through her is immense. Emma’s back. Emma’s here, holding their son, and Regina feels complete once again.

She moves forward, wanting to reach out and touch her, and _feel_ that her Emma is back with them, hold her family close and vow never to let them go again. She’s almost there when she’s all but knocked back by Hook.

She’d all but forgotten about the pirate until he intercepts her on her way to Emma and their son. Henry extracts herself from her arms and they both stand. Immediately, she’s swept into Hook’s embrace. She clings to him tightly, one of her hands clutching his jacket, and the other at the nape of his neck.

“Emma, my love,” Regina hears the pirate murmur. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Killian.” Emma pulls back to look at him, then takes in the burns she’d inflicted, still as ugly and raw as they day they’d first appeared. A trembling hand reaches out to touch one. “I’m so sorry,” she sobs anew, and buries her face in his shoulder as his arms encircle her even more tightly.

Regina looks away from them, and Henry is the one to meet her gaze. His eyes are so knowing and understanding that she needs to look away again.

She tells herself that the tears flowing down her cheeks are from relief alone, and not from the dashed hopes falling through the cracks in her heart.

She poofs herself away as Emma moves to be held by her parents. Clearly she’s well taken care of. There’s no more use for her here.

**Xxxxx**

Early the next morning, she treks into the woods to where Robin is camped with his men.

He’s pleased to see her and moves to greet her with a kiss, but she turns her head so that his lips land on her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “but I can’t continue our relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to you or to me, and it wouldn’t be fair to Roland or Henry.

 He looks at her with resignation and acceptance, as though he’s been expecting this in the weeks they’ve been apart. He curtly nods his head.

“As you wish,” he exhales.

She tells him that she’s grateful to him, that he’s always welcome in her home, and that she’ll help him in any way should he ever need it. She just doesn’t feel the same about him anymore.

Once she turns to leave, he calls out “Regina!” and she looks back over her shoulder at him.

“I hope you’ll be very happy with her.”

She doesn’t tell him that she and Emma aren’t together, that they likely never will be. He sounds sincere, so she simply says “thank you” and walks away.

**Xxxxx**

On her way home she stops by Granny’s for a cup of coffee and breakfast as it occurred to her as she emerged from the woods that she couldn’t remember the last time she ate an entire meal.

Her meal is finished and she’s nursing a third cup of coffee when Emma, Henry, Snow, David, and Hook enter the diner together.

Henry sees her first and rushes over to her booth. Emma follows a moment later, telling the others to find a table and that she’ll join them in a minute.

“Mom, where’d you go last night?” Henry slides into the booth across from her. “I was worried.”

Regina shrugs. “Everything was under control, so I left. I’m sorry you worried. I should have sent you a text.”

Henry looks at her suspiciously as Emma joins them. It’s as though she never left at all; the warmth is back in her eyes and she’s so beautiful.

“Hey! I didn’t get a chance to talk to you last night,” she remarks, the timbre of her voice back to normal.

Regina nods. “I’m sorry I left so soon. How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine,” Emma says with a shrug. “At least for now. We’ll see, I guess.”

Nodding, Regina lifts her coffee cup to her lips. “I’m glad.”

“Thank you,” Emma says after a moment, reaching across the table to gently squeeze Regina’s hand. Emma’s hands are smooth and warm, and Regina revels in the touch before Emma withdraws from her.

“Of course, Emma.” Emma gives her a sweet, genuine smile and Regina aches.

“Why don’t you join us for breakfast, Mom?” Henry pipes up, and Emma nods her agreement.

“Oh. Uh. No thank you. I was just about to leave. Enjoy your meal with your family.”

Emma’s brow furrows, but she doesn’t protest. “Okay. Can we have dinner one night this week, then? Just the three of us?”

Regina smiles tightly and nods. “Of course. Send me a text to let me know which night is best for you.”

“Okay,” Emma replies, her expression still suspicious. “I’ll let you know.”

“Great.” Regina rises and leans over to briefly kiss Henry’s forehead. “Enjoy your meal,” she says as she walks towards the counter to pay.

She’s fumbling with putting change into her wallet when she feels a tap on her shoulder.

Turning, she comes face to face with Belle, who demands, “How did it go?!”

“It couldn’t have gone better,” she says. “See for yourself.”

They turn and look at the table in the back where Emma is seated with the others. Nestled firmly in the crook of Hook’s arm, she’s chuckling at something Henry is saying. Hook looks up and makes eye contact with Regina. A disgusting, cocky smirk crosses his face as he leans over and tenderly kisses Emma’s temple, holding Regina’s gaze all the while. Regina begins to simmer with loathing and envy; there’s nothing she can do about it, and Hook knows it.

“Slimy bastard,” Belle mutters. Regina just nods.

Belle regards her with sympathy, but not with pity. Then, for a second time in two days, Belle is holding her hand. “Things are going to work out.” She repeats her words from the previous afternoon. “I know it.”

“You _can’t_ know it,” Regina counters.

“I do,” she insists. “I feel it.”  She says it with such conviction that Regina almost believes her.

 “Thank you again,” Regina murmurs. “For everything.”

**xxxxx**

A few evenings later, there is a persistent and loud knocking at her front door.

She opens the door to find Emma, looking upset.

“We need to talk,” she says, and she pushes he way inside.

“Okay,” Regina says, and closes the door.

She follows Emma to the kitchen where she begins pacing.

“Do you want coffee?” Regina asks, becoming more confused by the second.

Emma stops. “No, I don’t want coffee! I want to know why you’re not with Robin anymore!”

Regina stares at Emma, utterly stunned. “Excuse me?”

“He was your happy ending! You loved him, right?”

“Yes, but -“she starts, but Emma ignores her.

“How can you have happiness without him? I gave myself up for your happiness; does that mean nothing to you?”

“Of course it doesn’t! It means _everything!_ ” She finally shouts, and it sounds as though she’s in pain. It hurts that Emma, who has always seen the best in her, would think anything different.

“I’m sorry,” Emma says, calmer now. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just confused.”

Regina walks towards her until there’s only a foot of space between them. Emma’s eyes are green and wide, and all Regina wants is to let herself fall into them forever.

“Oh, Emma,” she breathes. “Don’t you get it?” Softly, she runs the back of her hand along Emma’s cheek, watching as her eyelids flutter closed. Regina is helpless to stop her own eyes from swimming with tears. “There is no happy ending for me without you.”

Emma’s eyes spring open, and Regina watches as her initially confused expression turns to shock as she begins to comprehend the implications of Regina’s statement.

“Oh,” she says stupidly.

“Yes,” Regina confirms, smiling sadly.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Regina wraps her arms around herself as though she’s warding off a chill. “It’s okay.”

They stand in awkward silence for a moment, and Regina wonders if she’s witnessing everything they’ve built over the past few years crumbling to dust.

 “I’ve gotta go,” Emma says eventually, walking quickly from the kitchen.

“Wait!” Regina chases after her. “I just want to know why you did it?” She demands. It’s the question that has haunted her for the whole time Emma was missing.

Emma turns around and looks at her and Regina sees both sorrow and affection in her eyes. “I just wanted to save you like I know you’d save me.”

Then Emma turns and leaves, taking Regina’s fragmented heart with her.

**xxxxx**

Regina numbly stumbles up the stairs and into her bathroom, turning on the shower as hot as she can stand it.

She undresses and steps under the spray, reveling in the sting of the hot water. She lets her tears trail silently down her cheeks.

She doesn’t know what she’d expected Emma to say.

Obviously all those nights lying awake thinking of _she’s not dying_ and _our son_ and _maybe we are_ and _together_ and _I’m in_ and _I always know when you’re lying_ had deluded her, and now it feels as though there’s a dark, bottomless chasm in her chest.

How had things changed so quickly? It feels as though Emma went from being her closest friend to the only one she could imagine herself with in the space of a heartbeat.

It doesn’t matter anyway, she thinks bitterly. Emma is happy, and it’s all that matters.

She will get over this, and eventually be okay.

“I’ll be okay,” she says out loud. “I’ll be okay.”

She repeats it over and over, trying in vain to convince herself until well after the water runs cold.

**Xxxxx**

The next night, Emma is at her door again.

“Hi,” she says, more gently than the day before.

“Hi,” Regina replies carefully, unsure of what’s to come.

Emma steps inside and wordlessly takes Regina’s face in her hands. She smiles, and before Regina can ask what’s going on, Emma kisses her. 

It’s a soft and gentle kiss, and at first Regina can’t believe that it’s happening. It only takes her a second to come to her senses, though, and she wraps her arms around Emma’s waist and sinks into her. She pulls the blonde closer, deepening their kiss. Their lips move over each other’s as though this is the thousandth time they’ve done this, and their bodies fit together perfectly. Nothing has ever felt so right to Regina, and she whimpers softly into Emma’s mouth.

Emma’s hands move into her hair, and their embrace grows in passion. It’s when Emma’s tongue lightly traces her lips that Regina snaps out of it. Reluctantly, she breaks their kiss, though she doesn’t loosen her hold on Emma’s waist.  

“Emma,” she says, “What… Why are you…”

“Henry talked some sense into me,” she says, playing with the strands of hair at the nape of Regina’s neck.

“Sense?”

“Yeah. He told me that kissing a guy because he traded his ship for me is not a good reason to kiss someone.”

Regina clears her throat. “Yes, well, I won’t deny that our son is wise beyond his years.”

Emma snorts derisively. “No kidding. And then Henry told me what he did to you in order to steal the dagger and that he was relatively unhelpful in helping you find me – “

“Relatively?” Regina quips, annoyed.

“Alright, entirely unhelpful in helping you find me.  And then it really hit me what a monumental betrayal of my trust it was for him to steal the dagger from you and summon me. And _that_ made me realize that he doesn’t know me at all. Not the way you do. There was no future for Hook and I. Not really.”

“And you think there’s a future for us?”

Emma kisses her cheek in answer and hugs her close.

“I was with Hook because he was the path of least resistance,” she murmurs into Regina’s shoulder. “He was there and he wanted me and that was nice. And then I brought Marian back – ”

“Well,” Regina interrupts. “Who we thought was Marian.”

“Yes. And the way you looked at me that night…it killed me. All I wanted to do was fix it. I just wanted you to be happy. And when we weren’t speaking to each other it sort of hit me that I couldn’t be happy if you weren’t happy. And then Robin was gone, and you seemed okay again, and it was _you_ who went undercover to protect me. You were the one who was able to talk me down from killing Lily, and you cared enough to look out for me and protect me without making me feel weak.”

Emma moves her head from Regina’s shoulder and looks into her eyes cupping her cheek with her palm.

“You gave me a happy ending with Henry in New York even though we both know you didn’t have to, and it was the best year of my life. Regina, _nobody_ has cared for me the way you do.” Tears begin to roll from Emma’s eyes and down her cheeks. Gently, Regina reaches out to wipe them away. “Then after talking to you yesterday, and Henry earlier, I realized that everything I’ve ever wanted – a home, and a family – has been in front of me this entire time.”

Regina nods, tears rolling down her own cheeks now. “And I didn’t realize it until you weren’t here anymore,” Regina says, her voice watery with emotion. “Nobody has ever sacrificed themselves for me before, and I spent the time you were gone wondering what I’d done to deserve it. Nothing mattered besides getting you back, including Robin, and I found I didn’t even miss him. We’ve been heading here for a long time, Emma. I’m sorry it took something so drastic to realize it.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Emma replies, and she pulls Regina gently forward for another kiss.

They kiss for a long moment, and then draw apart, their foreheads meeting. “We really were kidding ourselves, weren’t we?” Emma murmurs.

“Yes,” Regina agrees. “We really were.”

Another gentle kiss, full of promise and hope.

“What now?” Regina asks.

Emma smiles at her, wide and knowing and beautiful.

“Isn’t it obvious? We beat fate.”

Regina smiles then, too, and whispers against Emma’s lips, “We make our own Happy Ending.”

**Fini**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr at Emmba! :D


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